


What Dreams May Come

by Dillian



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Dreams, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy, Genderswap, Implied Masturbation, Loki Makes Up His Own Porn, Multi, The Boredom of a Demigod Under House Arrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dillian/pseuds/Dillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of executing him, Odin has put Loki under house arrest.  Loki finds this very hilarious:  Does the old man not realize he's keeping him safe from the vengeance of his ex-ally Thanos?</p>
<p>Once he's confined however, Loki discovers that safety can be quite boring.  He begins creating fantasies for his own amusement, and he...  Shall we say he uses the limited magical powers Odin allows him, to make them as realistic as possible.</p>
<p>The love-part comes on very slowly.  Loki's not used to being loved for who he really is, and he makes a connection with someone else who's also trying to hide part of himself.  It's kind of sweet, but it's the sweetness that comes of learning to grow past yesterday's pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Odin Amuses Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki puts one over on the All-Father

**I do not own The Avengers; I do not own the character of Loki, or any of the other characters I have so much fun writing. This work is purely for my own enjoyment, and not for any pecuniary benefit.**

 

It is pure comedy, is what it is: Those handcuffs that Thor brought out so officiously, were they just for this? The gag, that wonderful gag that was supposed to stop him speaking the Words of Power. Was it really meant to have so short a use? He heard the voices when he returned to Asgard, he'd have had to be deaf not to: “The traitor Loki...” “He's the one...” “He attacked...” “Destroyed the Bifrost... led an army against Midgard... killed Laufey in his father's very presence...” Was there really no one else who expected a punishment worthy of such heinous crimes? By Odin's beard, Thor was stricken of his powers and banished to Midgard for starting one small war, and he, Loki, is to get off so easily?

Loki stands before the All-Father: Odin, thunderous with disapproval; Thor with that look he's always gotten on his face when his brother gets in trouble, the half-protective, half-disapproving one. He of course, stands on the carpet below the throne with his head bowed, bound, gagged, the picture of crime, brought to justice. 

“Loki, your crimes are many.” Odin sounds older than he once did. He sounds a little weak, a little... – How would you say it? A little _tired_ maybe? He sounds like his last Odin-sleep, the one when Loki so signally failed to get Thor disinherited, is beginning to wear off. He needs an Odin-nap perhaps. “And yet,” the old man says, “you are my son. I would not cast you off without opportunity for reformation.”

Reformation, blah blah. Odin plays his role as the stern judge, and Loki, what is his role? He flicks a quick, green glance toward the old man. _There's rebellion in those green eyes,_ that's what the onlookers will say. Thor clears his throat, a rough, disapproving sound. He knows his part: One brother must rise, as the other brother goes down. There are murmurs. The audience approves. They crowd around to see the traitor punished, to watch the war-criminal be properly shamed.

And then Odin speaks again. “I sentence you to house arrest. You will be confined to your quarters and a seal set upon them to prevent your escape, until such time as you have shown repentance.”

“Ha! You are not my father. You have no authority over me, _old man_!” Oh, he has the words of defiance all ready. They're in his mouth. – Curse this misbegotten gag for stopping them... It's only when Odin's words sink in, that Loki realizes the gag just stopped him speaking too soon. What? _This_ is the All-Father's punishment?

He's not the only one surprised. Behind him, Loki hears mumbles. He hears mutters of disappointment, as the crowd realizes there will be no show-execution today. Beside him, he hears Thor's intake of breath. It's anger, isn't it? Resentment? A quick surge of pleasure goes through him, to see the golden boy discomfited for once. But as for the traitor Loki, he remains silent, for what else can he do? He stands, head-bowed, and it is not the handcuffs or the gag that make him so passive. For once, Loki has no idea how to respond.

“The guards will take you to your quarters.” Odin signals, and armed men come, one for his left, one for his right, and two more to watch his front and his back. It's amusing really, how many guards he's thought to need. They usher Loki through the halls, then march him into the anteroom of his chambers. It's a meek little man who unlocks the gag and the handcuffs, and the other three men stand at-ready the whole time, in case the traitor Loki makes a move toward them. He doesn't of course, but he likes them thinking it a possibility.

“Loki Odinson,” begins meek Guard Number One. –

“ _Laufeyson_ ,” Loki says, because it's expected of him.

– “The All-Father has set a seal on these chambers. You may not leave here, you may not use your powers beyond these walls. Twice a day an enchantment will bring hot food for you, and adjust the lights as needed. Aside from that, you are allowed to use your powers to meet such needs as you have. This sentence,” the meek one says, “will remain in place until such time as the All-Father sees evidence of your reformation.” 

“Which will be never.” A man plays the part fate gives him. “I owe no debt to Odin.”

He gets no response from the audience though. They just leave, and lock the doors behind them. Left alone, Loki surveys his new domain: These are his chambers just as he left them the day he ~~Odin rejected him~~... The day ~~Thor threw him~~... he fell from the Bifrost. The bed is still unmade, the clothing he discarded so long ago, still scattered untidily. His books are still there, still piled in the same confusion, and his sword, last used on Laufey, still rests in the same corner. He feels like a sea creature, crawling back inside a shell long since outgrown. This is not a King's room, but a child's. It is the room of a naughty little boy, sent to bed by Daddy.

Still, it is quiet, and it is comfortable. His needs have been taken care of, for rest, for food, and, with the books on the table, for entertainment as well. It is truly hilarious that Odin – That _anyone_! – should ever have thought for a moment that this was the right place to put a traitor and a war-criminal. This is a nest, this is the bosom of the family, and... Can he really be the only one who sees it? Is Thanos really so little known outside his own dimension? Does no one realize that his alliance might also have been a bondage, or that after failing his so-called “ally”, Loki stands to risk heavy penalty if he is caught by him?

Mentally, Loki laughs. He rolls over on the floor, but only in his mind of course (just in case Odin can see in here), because the same seal that keeps him _in_ here, is also the one that keeps Thanos _out_. Outside, Thanos waits fruitlessly, but he is safe in here. He has all the time in the world now, to plan his next course of action.

...All the time in the world, is actually _a lot_ of time. His chambers are _too_ quiet. A little hustle and bustle in the hallway, a nightingale singing outside the window, the annoying shouts of Thor's stupid friends, back from a drinking bout even, would be a diversion. Also, he finds he has finished all the books he left on the desk. Why did he leave them there, he thinks? Would it have been too much trouble taking them down the hallway to the library and getting new ones? But oh yes, he had been rather busy those last couple days in the palace, hadn't he?

The point is that by the time night falls, even that same day he was sealed in here, Loki is bored. He is very bored. And, with his magic still intact (for the most part), he sets about trying to remedy the situation. He stretches out on his old, comfortable bed. He lets his mind wander. Thoughts bubble into his mind. Incredibly, they are not thoughts about escape or revenge; they are thoughts about sex.

Sex? Oh, how Thanos would laugh. But then he always laughed, whenever anyone else showed anything resembling vulnerability. He did not seek power for what it would bring him, he was not sane enough for that. He sought it so there would be more he could destroy. – Loki takes another moment to enjoy the fact that that doddering fool of an Odin has seen fit to seal him away here where his old ally cannot possibly get at him. He enjoys the fact that he _does_ still have the capacity for pleasure. Perhaps it is this unexpected time of rest that is allowing him to reconnect with it. And slowly his eyes close and an image forms. Loki smiles to himself, and lets it carry him away.


	2. Tony Stark Amuses Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a scene in a certain penthouse is replayed, with a very different outcome.

“It's a threat.”

He is in the Stark Tower again, only this time something has changed: _He_ is not here, _she_ is. Loki does not need to touch her body to know she is in woman-form. She can feel the black curls cascading down her back, the slink of the clinging green gown that used to capture so many hearts (even once, hilariously, Fandrall's) back in Asgard. And is she standing where _he_ stood before, over by the window watching Stark pour a drink? No, Loki finds she is curled on the sofa, with that very same Stark sitting next to her, and very, very close. She also finds she does not mind, particularly.

“What have I to fear?” Funny, it sounded so much more menacing the first time. But then the first time, she didn't have Stark's arm around her. She wasn't holding a glassful of his whiskey, and her head wasn't spinning in a way that told her clear as day, that she'd already drank several glasses more. Loki hears herself giggle a little. “The Avengers?”

“There's no version of this where you come out on top.” -- No, but maybe on-top is no longer where she wants to be? – “There's no army,” Stark says, “there's no throne. This is all on you.”

“Make it all on me then.” Her head is swimming, her whole body feels weighted-down, heavy with desire. Loki puts her arms around Stark's neck. – She spills her whiskey doing it, but she finds she doesn't care about that either. She drags him close, feeling his mouth on hers, feeling his body pressing hers against the softness of the cushions.

Loki spreads her legs. She feels Stark's hardness connect with the throbbing, moist place at the core of her. But there's too much in the way, there are his clothes, and there are all of hers. As if in a dream, she fumbles. Her skirt lifts easily enough. His trousers take more work. She's not used to Midgardian clothing, and her hands are clumsy after all she has drunk. Her fingers work. They skate across throbbing manhood, finding the catch that holds the trousers in place, but unable, somehow, to unfasten it.

Then Stark laughs, and then she laughs with him. Then he's trapped both her wrists in one big hand and he's undoing the trousers himself. “And to think, you thought you could rule the Earth.”

Loki giggles. “Pathetic, mortal garments.”

“Be good.” – Stark kisses her. – “No insults,” – Another kiss. – “or I'll sic Hulk on you again.”

“No you won't.” With no trousers in the way, Loki's hands find what they want easily enough. She spreads her legs wider and guides him inside of her. “We don't need a mindless beast here. We're beasts enough already.”

Stark thrusts. Loki angles herself to feel the full impact of it. He's deep inside, filling her full, hitting her most sensitive spot with every thrust. She claws his hair, his back. She bites her own lips and his.

“Ride it baby,” Stark says. “Ride it like you rode that thing... – What was that thing called that you rode through the air in Manhattan?”

No fair. No reality allowed here. Loki puts a finger to his lips. She says what always makes all men obey her: “Fuck me,” and agan, “fuck me, Tony Stark.”

Stark fucks her. He rides her there on the soft cushions of his couch, in the huge pretentious splendor of his penthouse on the top of Stark Tower. He fucks her, and then she comes, and then she comes again. – He fucks her until she's exhausted, until it doesn't even seem like she could come again, but she does, when he comes inside her, and it's the best time yet.

After that, Stark's arms go around her. They're strong arms, and they hold her close. His body covers hers like a blanket, and they go to sleep together on the big, soft, couch. The last thing Loki sees is Stark's brown eyes looking into her green ones. The last thing she _smells_ is his shampoo, and the lingering scent of their sex. “Consider yourself conquered,” Stark whispers.

But all Loki cares to whisper is, “yes.”

\----------

Somewhere on the other side of all the Nine Realms, in a galaxy far, far away (a reference Loki would not get), a man fumbles out of sleep.

“JARVIS.” 

“Mr. Stark?” An electronic voice.

Silhouette of a tousled head, hands up, clasping an aching forehead. “How much did I drink last night?”

“Your alcoholic intake was within normal parameters, sir.”

A stifled groan. “No weed? No pills? No controlled substances?”

“Mr. Stark had an early night. Ms. Potts was here. There was champagne and a dinner catered by Le Bistro. Don't you remember, sir?”

“I remember that part all right.” Tony's out of bed now, and headed to the bathroom. He turns the shower to High.

“But...” Responsive listening technology. State of the art. No AI should be without it.

Tony poised to step under the shower-spray: “My god JARVIS, I had one hell of a dream last night!”


	3. Thor Amuses Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Thunderer sees what he expects.

Who was it who said history repeats itself, the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce? Pure, operatic tragedy, that's what it was when he confronted, Thor the first time, after the Thunderer returned from Midgard. Poor, wounded Loki: “Ohhh, I just found out my true parentage! I'm the monster parents scare their children with at night!” And Thor: “Oh, _brother_ , for you are my _brother_! You could be a Rock Troll from the Realm of Nidavellir, but if Odin says so, you are still my _brother_!” ...If Odin says so, yes, there's the key right there. There's the key to all of the Thunderer's decisions. 

Picture little Loki, just one more of the All-Father's treasures. He's one that can wander around; he has a mind of his own, but that's the only way he's different from the Eternity Gauntlet or the Tablet of Life and Time. ...Oh, and he's not useful any more. How was it Odin said it: “I hoped you would bring peace, but that doesn't matter any more.” Loki's so hurt, so tragically hurt. Back then, he truly thought that was the worst that could ever happen to him. And as soon as he could, he confronted his brother with the truth that they were no kin, that he was merely hostage to another's whims. Then he charged off, ready to do battle with the world. 

And then the world soundly trounced him. He came back to Asgard with his tail between his legs, bringing the one treasure the mad god Thanos wants beyond all others, the Tesseract, that allows free travel between all realms and dimensions (so apparently he was useful to Odin after all). He handed it over to the All-Father, and now it serves the so-useful purpose of allowing Thor to run down to Midgard any time he wants, and play footsie with his little mortal girlfriend.

Now the Thunderer returns to visit him. And who is he to be? Who does Thor expect him to be? Is he allowing himself to believe he will find the pale shadow who used to follow him on his crazy adventures? Does he fear to see a crazed brute, seeking revenge? Perhaps he expects to see the mute, silent Loki who stood and listened to the All-Father sentence, or a full-on blue-skinned Jotun. 

In the end, Loki settles on Brooding Resentment. It is normal to a man being punished, is it not? Certainly he cannot risk anything that smacks of Reformation, not until he has figured a way to evade Thanos. And if he were to attempt Mad and Violent, even Thor might notice the deception.

When the Thunderer comes, he finds his “brother” seated at his desk. He stares downward, unregardful of the book open in front of him, and he says nothing as he hears his visitor enter.

“Loki...”

Silence, grim silence.

“Do you find these quarters comfortable? When you arrived here, I suggested that Father put you here. I was hoping...”

Oho, so Thor is responsible for him being put in here? Was he imagining there would be therapeutic effect to the pair of mud-caked boots in the corner or the old set of sparring-armor in the closet? Could he have been foolish enough to think that Loki _staying_ in the same chambers he occupied as Thor's brother, would turn him back _into_ that brother?

“...Whatever happened,” the Thunderer blurts out, “you are still my brother!”

“I am not.”

“This is still your home!”

“It is not.”

Down thumps the Thunderer onto his bed, in a heap of blond hair and abject sorrow. Oh Thor, Thor, you do everything so well, even pleading with an obdurate ex-brother! “Isn't it, Loki?” Big hands clasping and unclasping, between even bigger knees. An expression of pain on his face that makes one think of a dog who has just been hit unjustly. “Tell me then,” he says, “what is it?”

Cold indifference from the Trickster: “I call it a political prison. I am the prisoner. You are the warden, in service of the tyrant who keeps me here.”

“Brother, you do not know what you say. Our father is no tyrant.”

“ _Your_ father.” So easy, it's all so pitifully easy. This was, it transpires, the very Loki the Thunderer expected to find, and once again the God of Lies shows his prowess. “Odin is a liar,” Loki says, “and yet he punishes me for lying. He is a warmonger, and yet he punishes me for being the same. I am ashamed to have been raised by him. Better I were a Jotun among other Jotun. There is truth at least, in their frozen mud and filthy hovels.” – Was that going too far? Is even Thor so gullible? He waits...

“Oh brother, do not say such things.” Ha! Once again, his instinct proves correct.

“Let me take word,” the Thunderer begs. “Just one word to Father that you have reformed, and this confinement will be lifted. Will you not say that word today, brother?”

No, no, a thousand times no. There is a way to beat Thanos, he is sure there is, but he has yet to find it. Cast him out of this place of safety now, he is an ant, and the mad god is the boot that will crush him. Stiff lips, a cold tone, and a face dark with feigned bitterness. “Never, Thunderer. Tell him I will die, sooner.”

“As you wish.” Thor rises. He moves to the door, turns back just for a moment before leaving. “If you're sure?”

No answer. He's sure. The door closes, he is alone, and ha, that's one more successful deception. That only leaves the rest of the day for Loki to get through.

...All of this day, and all of the next one. – All of all the days, until he finds a way to solve the _Thanos-problem_. It's not easy to research a villain from a dimension Asgard doesn't even know exists. It's harder still when one only has the same books over and over to do it with. Loki's found he can wipe the pages, and substitute new information for what is printed there. So far though, all he can put there are things he already know, things from his own mind. He has yet to find a way to draw in anything new.

The books are actually much more useful for occupying his leisure time. Loki finds he is quite good at conjuring stories to amuse himself. The good stories of course, involve himself. The really good ones involve people from his past as well, and the best ones pair him with them in ways that capture more than his imagination.

Loki picks up the book he was staring at, all through Thor's visit. A pass of his hand, and the pages are blank, another and new words bloom. He takes his time with them. He makes the script pretty, adds decorative flourishes and illumination in the margins. Then he adds pictures, lots of pictures. And then he settles down on the bed to read his latest masterpiece.


	4. Hulk Amuses Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is some question, as to the capacity of Bruce Banner's pants.

A crash landing, a roll, and he is upright again. “Enough!” he shouts, at the green beast who follows him. “I am a god, you dull creature.”

How was it the beast held him? By his legs? In the book-version, he puts one big hand around Loki's waist, scooping him up as a child might pick up a kitten. “Puny god.”

Oh, is he puny? Say rather that the beast is _large_ : Large all over, his strapping shoulders, his muscled chest, the large, large treasure, he keeps, improbably, inside what were once Dr. Bruce Banner's pants. How the two of them share these pants is mystery enough. The doctor is weak, he's small. If he carried such an engine between his legs in his own form, how would he hide it? And yet: If it grows, do the pants grow too? Were they exposed to gamma radiation along with the rest of him?

The beast growls. Inarticulate maybe, but the meaning is clear. Loki removes his clothes for him, doing it the mortal way, each article shed separately, instead of conjuring them all gone as he would normally do. It is a flirtation, they call it _striptease_ on Midgard, and it is surprisingly exciting. With each garment that is gone, the beast grunts, or growls approval, and when he is naked in front of him, Loki can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

Desire? Can a beast feel desire? Say pleasure, and you are still beyond the range of emotions of this brute creature. He feels that he is been given what he wants, but he will want more, for that is his nature. He will demand and Loki will submit. He will take and Loki will give. ...Oh, Loki will give!

“Bend.” It is a grunt, rather than a word.

“Stop.” Loki is naked as a fish, pale as a cleft branch denuded of bark. He puts his hand up, as if he thinks he can command the beast. “I would see you undress too first. Ere you do this, I wish to see the weapon you use.”

The blow comes unexpected and so hard it knocks him across the room. “Bend!” This time the creature doesn't wait, but grabs and forces him into the position he wishes. Loki feels his nose swing down. It hits his knees hard enough to bloody it, and he feels liquid drip down, to pool on Tony Stark's expensive marble floor.

“Brute.” He feels blood bubble on his lips as he whispers. “Monster. I...”

Large hands seize his hips before the thought is finished, large, large, impossibly large hands. What follows will be larger still. Loki tells himself he's ready, he bites down on his lip. Then it happens, and he is _not_ ready. Who could be ready for the force, for the sheer size of it? It is a battering ram, and his poor entrance but a mousehole unprepared to take it.

Shrieks are forced from his lips, and screams. Tears and snot mingle with the blood running off his face, but what cares the monster for that? He continues., not slacking, regardless Loki feels himself forced open, his body is rended. It is an impossible, it goes on and on... And then, in a moment it seems, it is done.

Loki puts his hands on his thighs to balance himself. He presses backward, taking each thrust as the beast gives it. He feels his own member start leaking, and puts his hands to it rocking back and forth in rhythm with the beast. “Brute,” he murmurs again, “monster,” and this time they are words of endearment.

“Huh. Puny god.” The beast claims him with its seed.

\----------

His phone rings. He puts down the left glove and the screwdriver, and answers it. “Bruce?”

“Say Tony,” – A nervous voice, but when is Bruce Banner not nervous? It's like with Hulk in the picture, he's always got to be afraid of the least little screw-up. – “I don't know how to ask this, but did I … Was I... Last night, did you hear anything about me...”

“Are you asking if you Hulked up?”

Confusion sounds through the receiver of his Stark-phone. “See that's the thing, is I don't think I did. I was still in my pajamas when I woke up today, and everything was okay in the apartment, but ...But I dreamed about him last night, Tony. I never dream about him except when he comes out.”

“What kind of dream was it?”

“Yeah, and that's the other thing. The Other Guy's always been all about the anger, _you_ know. This wasn't an angry dream, Tony, it was a good” – He falters. – “a really good, kind of perv-y dream.”

Perv-y? And it involved _Hulk_? Ooh, tell me more!

“Tony, my anger is never going to work right again, the gamma radiation saw to that. If the damage is spreading to my other emotions now, I swear to you, I'm not sticking around to wait for it. I'll find a way. Even Hulk can't be totally indestructible.”

Always the talk of suicide! God, if he were as depressive as Bruce, he'd kill himself. “Take it easy Bruce, there has to be another explanation. You say it was perv-y. What did you dream about?”

“It's going to sound weird, but ...I dreamed about Loki.”

No Bruce, no, it doesn't sound weird at all. Tony turns away from his worktable, gloves, screwdrivers, his entire damn suit forgotten. “Tell me more.”


	5. Thor Surprises Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki makes the unwelcome discovery that mortals are not such thundering dolts as he'd thought.

“Loki, this must stop!”

The next visit from the Thunderer comes as a surprise. Loki has not even time to consider how he will present himself, when Thor barges into his chamber, red-faced and heavy breathing. This was the part where he always used to jump on him when they were boys together. Unthinking, Loki prepares for the assault. But it seems Thor has learned some manners since then. He just stands in the doorway with his hands fisted, and glares at his “brother”:

“Stop visiting my friends in their dreams.”

He knows? Unwelcomely, another surprise. Who is it he has underestimated, the Trickster wonders? Surely not the one called Stark: He thought him adventurous enough in his sexuality that he would appreciate the visit of a dark-haired temptress. He could not have been wrong? But then is it Banner? It occurs to Loki that he may have made a mistake in focusing on the man's mindless beast-aspect, and ignoring his other side.

“It was the doctor.” Notice the full extent of his surprise, that Loki should speak without thinking. And to _Thor_ of all people. 

“Both of them told me, brother,” Thor says. “And it must stop. These are my _friends_. They are people, not your pets, to do what you choose with.”

“No they are your pets, aren't they?” The automatic response. Loki is still feeling his way in this unexpected encounter. That he should be caught out, and by unworthy mortals at that: From whence comes this tactical failure? “Midgard is your realm, and Loki Laufeyson must ever stay away.”

“ _Odinson_.” Ha! He's done it. He's distracted the lummox. “Your name is Odinson brother, whatever your parentage. Father gave you your name and your inheritance when he adopted you.”

“ _My_ inheritance?” How many times will they play out this same scene? How many times will the Thunderer be ready to, that is the question. “That I should stand beside you after you ascend the throne, as I used to do when we were children? I reject that inheritance. I am a king by right.”

He is a king without a kingdom, but that is only for now. That will change, he will make it change. He'd be making it change now, if it weren't for certain extra-dimensional roadblocks. That problem still wants thinking about, but for now he has a new one.

Bruce Banner: He is a quiet, unassuming man. He wears his monstrous side as a burden, and gives his normal life over to expatiation of what he thinks are his sins. He is not stupid though, and apparently there is more connection between the man and beast sides than he'd thought. So Hulk's dreams feed into Banner's mind? Do Banner's dreams also feed to the Hulk?

Loki finds it pleases him to think about this Doctor Banner. Up until now, he has always been the only person he knew who had a monster-side. How he's dealt with his: Let us say it is not his proudest moment. As for how Banner has dealt with his: Well now, that is the question, is it not? What of Hulk is there in Banner, and what of Banner in Hulk? It is high time, he thinks, for him to find out.

“...Brother, can you never think of anyone besides yourself?” He is roused from his thoughts, by the sound of Thor, still talking. “Do you not care?”

No. Whatever it is, he does not care. He never cares. Loki is the honey badger, to use the Midgardian parlance. You'd think Thor would realize that, they've only known each other for ...How long is it now? 1,025 years?

“You will leave me now,” he tells the Thunderer. “I weary of your chatter. And you will cease to tell me what to do and what not to do. I am Loki, I do as I will.”

“And you will not bother my friends.”

“And I will...” He huffs out a sigh. Make this look good, stop the Thunderer noticing when he promises nothing: “And I will _respect_ your friends.”

And he will make good on his promise. For it is respect, is it not, that makes him want to study the eminent Doctor Banner more closely?

Thor of course, is completely taken in. By Odin's wounds, if he were that gullible, Loki would surely kill himself. “Good brother, good,” he says. “I knew you would see reason. Having seen to that Loki, I am afraid I must take my leave.”

“And you will not be back?”

“Regrettably, no.”

Regrettably? For whom is it regrettable? Loki is pleased enough to see the Thunderer's back. He has business to attend to and, he only waits to hear the door shut again on his cage, to begin it.


	6. Banner Pleases Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki makes a confession, and Bruce is pleased.

Gentle fingers probe Banner's mind. – Fingers? Can fingers probe your mind? ...Gentle, coaxing fingers of thought: They're there, he can feel them exploring. But it's not a bad feeling, and it doesn't disturb his sleep. Banner lets it go. He relaxes, and after a while the dream comes:

There is a girl. She walks toward him with her head bowed, her dark curls spilling over her shoulders. As she comes close, she looks up, and he's looking into her eyes.

“Do you know me, Bruce?”

He's opening his mouth to tell her he does not, but his mind is quicker than he is. “You're Loki,” he says.

She nods. “I am Loki.”

“Have you come to use me again?” 

Her green eyes are nothing but frank as she looks at him. -- _Frank_? It is the last word he associates with Loki. -- “I've come to apologize.” She puts her soft hand into his. “I took you without your consent last time, but nothing more will be done unless we both want it, Bruce.”

She did not take him. She took the Other Guy, and somehow that seems the worst violation. Banner pushes her away.

“Forgive me,” she says. “I forgot you are a human, and surrounded by people who love only humans.” A smile, weirdly sincere: “I love your green Self.”

Then she doesn't want him. Is it relief he feels, Banner thinks, or disappointment?

“I love both your selves,” Loki tells him, “for both are part of the one person. – Remember, I am half-monster myself too.”

This is a joke of some kind. It's Loki's manipulation. What does “half-monster” even mean to an Asgardian? The skepticism must show on his face, because Loki speaks quickly.

“Thor told you I was adopted. Did he tell my true parentage as well? Watch, Bruce:” She extends an arm and Banner, watching, stares as the skin rapidly shades blue. “My heritage is among the Frost Giants of Jotunheim. In my true form I am tall, as tall as your green Other Self, and broad, and strong in proportion. Would you like to see?”

He feels himself shake his head.

“Good, for I am ashamed.” Incredibly, Banner finds Loki burying her head in his shoulder. “Odin hid my true parentage from me all my childhood. Instead, I learned the tales all Aesir children learn growing up, that the Jotun are nothing but monsters, brute beasts of chaos and destruction.” Even more incredibly, he feels his own arms tighten around her. He's pulling her close. Loki? No, not Loki. This cannot be Loki, this girl who shares a past so much like his. 

Banner cups her face and tilts it upward. He presses a kiss to her soft, red lips. “You are not a monster,” he says.

The girl breathes out a sigh. – Of relief, it sounds like. – “No,” she murmurs. “Nor are you, Bruce.”

They make love that night. And making love is what it truly is, every touch a caress, every movement a blessing. Banner undresses Loki like he is unwrapping a treasure. Loki gives herself to him like she is the one honored, grateful to receive the gift of his body. He falls asleep with her in his arms, her dark head resting against his chest, her soft arms wrapped around his own waist. 

And when he wakes and finds her gone, weirdly it is a disappointment. His bed feels suddenly too small, too cold, too lonely. _But that was Loki_. He led an alien army against Manhattan. He cheated, he lied. – He took Banner without his consent, invading his dreams and seducing his Other Self. The feeling of loneliness stays though, and finally Banner gets up, unable to get any more sleep that night.

\----------

Loki congratulates himself on the success of his research. He has experienced both Sides now; which one, he thinks, will be his favorite? The Beast pleased him, certainly. He is a connoisseur of beasts, having bedded a stallion, lived as man and wife with one of the more brutish of the Jotun. Hulk is pleasing in size, excitingly forceful in his demands. But with Banner, the appeal is different: Even after all that has happened to him, he is still trusting, his heart still strangely open.

Loki tells himself this makes him all the easier to deceive. It was deception. Unlike the Doctor, he is no longer scarred by the pain of his past. He has moved beyond it. He is Loki God-Slayer, Loki, Bringer of Chaos. One day Odin will fall. All the Nine Realms will be at his feet. And what matter his parentage then? What matter the lies he was told, the shame he used to feel?

...He tells himself that, but he still feels Banner's touch on his body. He still feels his lips against his face, hears the words he whispered so softly: “You are not a monster, Loki.” No, not a monster at all.


	7. Loki and Bruce Please Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki's musings turn away from the pornographic.

~~”It’s an impressive cage.”  Loki looks coolly at SHIELD’s Director, from his place inside its walled confines.  “Not built, I think, for me.”~~

~~The Director stares back, mortal smugness writ large upon his face.  “Built for something much _stronger_ than you.”~~

~~“I know.  He’s much, much stronger.”  Loki steps back to show the Hulk in all his naked Hulkishness, standing behind him.  He grins.  “Would you like to watch, Director?”~~

\----------

~~Mind-controlled, he’s not bad, his body muscled, compact, fascinating in its gleaming darkness, so different from Jotun-blue, or the pallor of the Aesir.  He undresses, showing a body scarred by battle, a body shaped by use like that of the Aesir.  There are no more smug comments from him, no attempts to control those more powerful than he.  His mind is Loki’s mind now, and he~~

_No, curse it.  The damnable sceptre, and the mind behind it that controlled them:   Both were Thanos’..._

\----------

Bruce looks up from his book as Loki enters the room.  He is sitting on a bed, on the same bed they shared during their night together.  Narrow, at once hard and lumpy, it is his real bed, and the man who sits on it is the real Bruce, and Loki...  But is there a real Loki?

When one is a shape-shifter by gift,when one swims through illusion as a fish through water, what is reality?  What is one’s true essence?  Loki shows the face she showed the last time she visited, the face of her woman-form.  Is it her real face? Does she have a real face? She goes to Bruce as a bride goes to her bridegroom, as a child goes to its mother’s arms, and the pleasure she shows at being here, that at least, is real.

Bruce holds her close, and strokes her dark hair back from her face.  “I’m glad you came back.”  

He's real, so real. Real, and a little rumpled, with glasses that keep sliding down his nose. In Asgard he'd have no need for those. Idunn's apples would keep him young. Magic, Odin's, Loki's, whoever's, would hide his flaws. – Magic has hidden Loki's flaws all his life, if the signs of Jotun heritage can be described merely as _flaws_. Somehow he finds himself liking Bruce better for the flaws though, and he wonders: Is there a lesson here that the Aesir might learn?

Loki cuddles into Bruce's arms. “I'm glad too,” she murmurs. She reaches up and cups his face, – His real face; there's a hint of stubble there, too pale to show against his sallow skin. – then leans up to kiss him.

His mouth tastes of mint. It's a Midgardian smell. Without the powers of the Aesir keeping them strong, these mortals must take care to protect their own health. The mint comes from _toothpaste_ , an ointment they use to care for their teeth. It's a good taste. 

“Tell me about yourself,” she says.

Bruce's arms are warm. They're not the powerful arms of a warrior, or the iron muscles of his Other Self, but there's strength there. Loki thinks it comes from what's inside him. “Me?” He laughs a little. “There's not much to tell. I was born. I went to school. I fucked up on an experiment, and I made the Other Guy.” His voice changes as he says the last bit. There's a new emotion there, self-loathing, it sounds like. Loki feels a tightness in her own heart. What is it? Is it pity? Sympathy? Or merely the satisfaction of knowing how far he's burrowed into another's mind?

“Your Other Guy is part of yourself.” –

Bruce cuts her off. “My 'Other Guy' is a killing machine,” he says. “He's no different from Stark's suit, except that Stark's got control over what the suit does. I've got no control over the Hulk.”

He has control; Loki still can't understand how he doesn't see that, why he doesn't appreciate the awesome might of this weapon inside himself. Someday he will teach him, he thinks. They will stand together, the two most powerful forces in the Universe. But that can wait. For now, this feels good, just to be here, just to feel Bruce's warm arms, and hear his voice.

“Tell me about the parts that aren't the Hulk,” she says. “Tell me what makes you happy.”

“Happy?” There's that same emotion in Bruce's voice. There's not much peace of mind here, Loki thinks, not much that makes him happy. Bruce looks away, his face first wrinkling with thought, then, slowly, smoothing. “When I can help someone I guess,” he says. “When I can make things better for a change, instead of always making them worse.”

Loki stares into his face. She listens to his words. It fascinates her to think of _helping_ , of making a change for good, so different from lying and destroying things.

“Who do you help?” she says.

Bruce smiles. “There was this woman, she was giving birth. The cord was around the baby's neck, and when he came out he wasn't breathing.” He laughs a little, softly. “The funny thing is, anybody who knew CPR could have helped, I didn't need my education, or my medical experience. But the look on her face when I got her baby breathing again, and put him in her arms: That's stayed with me ever since.”

Why does the story make him feel good, Loki wonders? It's just one little mortal life, Mayfly-short like all the rest of them. He's never seen this child, has no interest in whether he is alive or dead. ...It's the emotion he awakens in Bruce, he thinks: That's what he loves.

...No, _love_ is the wrong word. He does not _love_ a mortal. Their silly insistence on survival, the way they struggle onward through whatever circumstances: Ants, foolishly carrying their dead back one by one, even after their colony has been destroyed.

...But Bruce's face is so peaceful. His eyes shine so beautifully. “That's a lovely story,” Loki says.

“It's a small story.” Bruce laughs his same, self-deprecating laugh. “It's not like being King of a Realm somewhere, or saving the world or something. Some of us get what we want, and some of us have to make a life out of what's left, I guess.”

“I guess.” Loki wonders what he means. “Kiss me,” she tells him. And Bruce kisses her, and that at least, makes sense.


	8. Loki Amuses Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bruce discovers mead, and Loki discovers that not everything his lover reads is interesting.

Loki looks up from his book as Banner enters the room. For a moment, he looks surprised. Then there's the quick flare of a smile. “I'm glad you came,” he says.

Banner grins. “I'm glad you made a way for me to come.”

He looks around. Loki's room is a lot different from his, that's for sure. It's a prison, right? It's got to be a prison, because Thor told the Avengers that Odin had imprisoned his brother, but it doesn't look like any prison Banner's ever seen before. The bed's a huge, carved monstrosity, canopied with green hangings and covered in what look like bearskins. There's a desk covered with leather-bound books, and a hearth with a huge, roaring fire in it. A tray on the desk holds a platter of roasted meat, bread, and a pitcher of something that looks alcoholic.

If he were Stark, he'd say something about having invited himself to dinner. He'd say something about the huge bed, or make a comment about the so-very not-prisony-ness of this imprisonment. He's not Stark though. Banner just stands here grinning. And Loki just stares up at him from the bed. His silver tongue's deserted him too, and he hasn't even had the presence of mind yet to lay his book aside.

Finally, Loki says something. “This isn't the form I've visited you in.” He raises a hand. “I should change.”

“Why?” Banner moves over the the bed. He sits down, the shaggy bearskins soft against his hands, as he touches them. “It's not like I haven't seen this form before.”

“When I attacked your realm.” Loki frowns. “When I taunted you about the presence of your Other Self. You have little reason to love me in this form, Bruce.”

He has little reason to love Loki in whatever form, Banner thinks, but since when did emotions come because there was a reason for them? – It occurs to him that this is the first time he's thought of what he and Loki share as “love”. It occurs to him more than that, that maybe he's okay with the name. 

He takes Loki's hands. Just for a moment, he thinks about that video they watched with Fury, the one from Stuttgart: He remembers the casual way these same hands twirled that staff-thing he carried, then how they tightened, right before knocking the one guard off the balcony. But he's held Loki's hands so many times since then. How is it different, just because they were woman's hands when he did it? “Not everyone can change forms because they want to,” he says. “But you're still the same person inside no matter what you look like. You still have the same bad parts, and you still have the same good parts. It's the good part of you I love, Loki.”

Oh god, if any of the other Avengers ever saw _that_ expression on Loki's face: His green eyes are wide, defenseless, like a child's eyes. His lips are parted like he's waiting for something, a candy treat, or a kiss maybe. “Male or female?” His voice is very soft.

Banner nods. “Male or female, or... – What are those blue things your ancestors were? Jotuns? – Or Jotun-blue, Loki. If anyone's learned not to judge people by appearances,” he says, thinking of the Other Guy, “I have.”

“You know I don't believe you.” That's not true, that's what Banner knows. The look on Loki's face says it isn't true. His face is totally open, totally trusting. It's the face of a little kid looking up into his mother's eyes, while she tells him the monster in the closet isn't real. Just for a moment, Banner pulls back, a little scared. Can anyone live up to that level of trust? Certainly, he can't. But he's gone way too far to turn around now.

“It's true.” He brushes male-Loki's hair back from his face just like he's done so many times with female-Loki, and kisses him just like he's always done before. “I don't get why you're so surprised about that. You tell me and tell me that you don't mind about my monster-side. Why would you think I'd mind about yours?”

\----------

It's weird the first time they make love as two men together, but that's only because he's never slept with a man before. – To tell the truth, Banner hasn't slept with much of anyone before. There was Betty, but that was a long, long time ago. There've been a couple of women over the years, prostitutes that he's gone to only out of desperation, afraid the frustration of holding onto his desire might cause the Other Guy to surface. He's always kind of scared the sex might bring him out too though, so he hasn't dared go very often.

Admittedly, doing it with a man is different from doing it with a woman. There's things that have to be put in different places, and parts of the act that feel totally different. Kissing for instance: This is the first night he ever went to sleep with beard-burn. But doing it with Loki is ...still doing it with Loki. Male or female, he's still the same person. He's still bossy in the same ways, and he's still cuddly in the same ways, and he still wants to touch Banner in all the same places. 

They make love half the night long. Then they get up and eat everything from the tray on Loki's desk. The alcoholic stuff is mead, by the way. It's a little sticky-sweet for Banner's taste, but he needs something to drink after everything they've been doing. After they finish eating, Loki shows him the books on his desk.

“I've read them all already.” He frowns. “I didn't know I was going to be confined here,” he says, “and of course Odin can't be bothered to send any new books.”

Banner takes a book in his lap. It's big and heavy, like some family's old heirloom Bible. Like a Bible, it's got gold-edged pages, and there are colorful, medieval-looking illustrations all through it. “You were reading this one when I came in,” he says. “What is it about it that makes it worth reading over and over again?”

Loki's frown fades. All of a sudden, he looks cheerful again. And devious, very, very devious. “You want me to show you?”

He waves his hand. Suddenly the pages Banner was looking at are blank, no text, no illustrations. “What do you like to read?” Loki cups Banner's face. He looks into his eyes. A moment later, the page blooms. – Banner can just see it out of the corner of his eye, Loki not having bothered to let loose of his face yet. – Text shows up. The words are familiar, although the curvy, medieval-Gothic script and elaborate capitals are not. It's not until the illustration shows up on the next page that Banner recognizes it though.

Banner laughs. “That's the epidemiology article I was reading before I went to bed,” he says.

Loki looks down at the book. “The spherical thing. It is rather beautiful.”

“It's a virus. It causes diseases for us mortals. That one causes the common cold. – But seriously, Loki: You don't want to read that. It doesn't even apply to you.”

“You do not know that. Perhaps I am quite interested in...” Loki looks down at the page. He reads. “...In post nasal drip and ocular inflammation.”

“I've read other stuff,” Banner says. “Look in my mind. I'll give you a book, a good one. You read it there, and then you can put it into your book, right?”

Loki nods. He cups Banner's chin again and looks deep into his eyes. “Give me a good book.”

Banner thinks of The Hobbit. – He was going to think of Harry Potter, but it's been a long time since he read the first one. He can't exactly remember how that one went. – He pictures The Hobbit, then he pictures Lord of the Rings. – He's halfway through that one. When he looks down, he sees Bilbo's little house at Bag End pictured on the first page of Loki's book. He turns over a page or two and there's Gandalf, bringing Fili, Kili, Dwalin, Balin and the rest of them to visit him. He looks up and meets Loki's delighted grin.

“This is the first new book I have had, that I didn't have to write myself. Thank you, Bruce.”

Of course he has to start reading it right then and there. Banner, who was looking forward to getting some sleep, after all the mead he drank, finds himself curled on the bed with a god who can't tear himself away from the adventures of Bilbo and his friends. When he goes to sleep, he's uncomfortably aware that Loki is using him as a pillow.

That doesn't make him feel any better about it when he wakes up alone though, and back in the narrow bed in his apartment. He thinks about Loki's pile of rough, warm bearskins. He thinks about the flickering warmth of his fire, and the tray of roasted boar and mead on his desk. He thinks about his books, which can be any books, it only wants someone to share his imagination with him. Then he thinks about Loki himself: With all his bossiness, and his prickliness, and his crazy way of thinking that having the Hulk inside you is adorable, but his own blue Jotun form is some kind of hideous deformity. That's what he really misses, is Loki in all his Lokiness, he thinks. The room, and the furniture in it don't matter.


	9. Thor Annoys Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the idea of someone loving Loki as he really is, seems to come as a surprise for everyone.

It's always a little disturbing to watch Thor eat. One minute there's a big pile of food there, the next minute there's just a guy with a fork, and he's looking around for whatever else is left. Banner's just watched him make history out of a whole roast chicken. Now he's washing it down with some of the mead Stark buys just for his visits.

Stark looks dramatically around the whole table. “There was a chicken here,” he says. “I know there was, wasn't there? Where's it gone?”

A sheepish look from Thor. “Was there only just the one?” he says. “I am sorry, my friends.”

There _wasn't_ just the one of course. Stark's not new enough at feeding the Avengers to make a mistake like that. Down at the other end of the table, Rogers has one all to himself that he's working on, and across from him, Barton and Natasha are sharing one together in a way that makes their couple-status endearingly obvious. -- It always kind of bugged Banner to see happy couples together before; that was what he wanted to have with Betty, before the disaster with the gamma radiation got in the way. Now he finds that he doesn't mind particularly, Even if it's in a dream-world, he's kind of got that with Loki, doesn't he? – “There's bread.” Stark shoves a plate Thor's way. “There's salad,” he says, as if there's a chance in hell that the big Asgardian is going to want that. “Do you _want_ another chicken, Thor? I think there's another in the refrigerator.”

“The bread please.” Thor takes the plate. “I did not deprive you of food, did I, friend Tony? And Bruce,” he says, looking his way, “are you getting enough to eat?”

Banner looks down at his plate. Apparently a pile of picked bones and a smear where the salad used to be do _not_ translate out to “enough” in Thor's mind. “I'm fine,” he says. “Thanks for asking.” He drinks some of the mead he's poured himself. – It sucks ass, actually, but he was curious to taste what Thor and Loki drink when they're at home.

“It's good to see you here Thor,” Stark says, “but I'm kind of surprised. Has Nick talked to you? Is there something brewing that we should know about?”

Thor nods. “Something is brewing, as you say. The Director told me something troubling: He said my brother visited him in a dream. I spoke to Loki about bothering my friends. I thought he'd agreed to stop.”

Does Thor even talk to his brother, Banner wonders. Does he realize spending time with him can be pleasant, as well as disturbing?

“Loki?” Natasha's voice is surprised. “In my _dreams_?”

“He'd better not try,” Barton says. “You know the old saying: Fool me once...” His hands tighten as though Loki's throat is inside them, and a grim smile lights his face.

Thor looks at Stark. “I know he visited you before. Has he been back?” A shake of a head for an answer. He turns to Banner. “And you, friend Bruce?”

Of all the ways to bring out the news. He was going to have to tell them eventually anyway, – He was, wasn't he? He's not used to having close enough friends to share anything with. Maybe he could have just kept quiet and eventually it would have stopped being an issue? – but to have to do it like this... Banner takes another drink of the syrupy mead, trying to think how he's going to put this.

“He's visited,” he says. “We visit each other. – It's not like it's a problem, Thor.”

The others are looking at him like his hair's on fire. It's the look Natasha gave him when they were on the heli-carrier, he thinks, when she was scared he was going to turn into the Other Guy.

“My brother...” Thor sounds like he's feeling for words. “He can be very persuasive, Bruce.”

“He can be very sexy,” Stark chimes in (which at least gets the others' off him for a moment, as they all turn to look at Stark). “It's lies though, it's all lies.”

 _No. It's not._ Banner thinks it but he doesn't say it. He feels angry, but it's not a Hulk kind of angry, not yet, anyway. “Why are you all treating me like I'm a kid,” he says. “Did it occur to you maybe I know what I'm doing?”

Their eyes say that no, it didn't. 

“You haven't been in a whole lot of relationships.” Stark, always there to say what the others wouldn't dare to say.

“My brother is somewhat promiscuous,” Thor says. “Has he told you about Svaoilfari? About Angrboda?”

“Yes, and yes.” He's getting downright pissed off here. “He's also told me about him really being a Frost Giant. Is that what it is, Thor? Is it that you can't understand anyone loving your brother when he's really a giant blue monster? You do remember that I'm really a giant green monster myself?”

They're all staring at him even more, now. It's because he admitted the existence of the Other Guy. He thinks about it, and yeah, he's never done that before. It occurs to him to wonder why he hasn't. Loki's right: Hulk's just another part of himself, and he should try being proud of him for a change.

“My brother is a liar.” Thor says it very gently. He puts an arm on Banner's shoulder, like a big brother counseling his sister before she goes on her very first date. “He's plausible, but he doesn't always mean what he says. -- I don't want you to be hurt, Bruce.”

Being babied like this is humiliating. When did he turn into a junior member here, for the others to treat like a helpless little kid? But whatever he sounds like, Thor's just got his best interests at heart. Banner tries to take his words for how they're meant, not for what they sound like. “I won't be hurt,” he says. 

“If you are...” Thor's brow darkens, his grip on Banner's shoulder tightens.

“I'll tell you if I am.” Banner shrugs free from his tightening hand. “Listen,” he says, “Stark said he got Ben and Jerry's for dessert. You want some?”

The big Asgardian's face brightens. “Did he get Phish Food? He knows it's my favorite.”

“Phish Food _and_ Cherry Garcia.” Banner turns away. He hopes that's the end of their conversation.

But no: “You can tell Loki that I am watching him.” Thor speaks as he is walking away from him. “Tell him if he hurts you, that I will have something to say about it.”

Banner nods acknowledgment. It's a no-win situation, he thinks as he leaves. Has there ever been a relationship where someone _didn't_ get hurt? The whole point is that love is worth taking the risk for. Loki genuinely cares, he thinks, and that's why he's taking a chance on him. That's what matters, not whether one of them gets hurt or not.


	10. Loki Is Not Pleased With Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This new feeling: Is it guilt? Shame? And what is he supposed to do about it?

“Brother, we must talk.”

The obvious response – _But we are not brothers,_ – has been used already. Really, he is getting quite popular these days. Past time to come up with some new repartee. Only with the Thunderer already here, there is no time.

“Talk?” A rejoinder worthy of Thor himself.

“I'm here about Bruce.” Thor sits on Loki's bed like he was invited (he wasn't). His blond brow is knit, his big hands fist and un-fist reflexively. “He is a good man, Loki.”

He is a very good man. Who knows that better than Loki, who insulted him when they first met, and yet has been given his trust? Loki keeps his voice cool. “Your point, Storm God?”

Thor looks at a loss for words (not a rare occurrence for him). He fumbles. “He's ...He's _innocent_ is what he is, Loki, and you, you're...” – Liesmith. Trickster. A creature of Chaos, Jotun-born and unworthy to associate with anyone good or harmless. – “...You're _not_. You take what you want, and you don't care who gets hurt.”

“Really? All my life?” Is it their misjudgment that makes the words sting, Loki wonders, or the fact that there is truth in them?

Thor doesn't look at him. “Remember when you cut off Sif's hair, because she loved me better than you?”

Remember? Ha! The golden tresses he brought back, the other gifts, willingly created by the sons of Ivaldi ...and the pain he suffered, _at Thor's hands_ , after he persuaded another family of dwarfs to create their own gifts in competition: All that and more, is what the Trickster remembers. Once, angry words would have fallen. He'd have blamed Sif; Thor; Eitri, who made the deal with him; or Brokk, who sewed his lips shut when he lost. More words that have been said too many times already though, and is he to be trapped in repetition his whole life?

“I made good the harm I did,” he says finally. “Will you never remember any but the bad things I have done ... _brother_?” Calculated use of the word he knows the Thunderer craves to hear from his lips more than any other. For good or for ill, his talent lies in his craft.

Predictably, Thor's mouth falls open. Tears moisten his blue eyes. “Loki...” He swallows. “If you knew how I've longed to hear that word...” Excellent. Loki allows himself a small, mental smile. Now if he can just get the big oaf out of here before he realizes he's been played. 

But deception can be used too often, especially when one has the reputation of a Trickster. Thor casts one more look at him, his eyes suddenly keen and very, very doubtful. He grips Loki's arm with tight fingers.

“You close yourself off in your anger, brother. There are those who love you: Myself, our mother, Father. Why do you ever seek to manipulate us, when we would help you and willingly were you but honest?”

Because they would not, he thinks. Because he is Outsider, Alien ...Different. A thousand small rebuffs, a million exclusions, crowd his mind, and Loki opens his mouth, ready to speak.

He closes it again though. For again, he would be speaking words he's already said a thousand times before. For once, let things be different, he thinks, if different they can indeed be. Let him for once be, not Loki Silvertongue or Loki Trickster, but merely Loki, full stop. ...Or perhaps, Loki Lover of Bruce. 

“If ever there is risk that I will hurt Bruce, I will come to you, Thor.” 

The Thunderer looks at him for a long moment. He has learned a lot over the years. No longer is he satisfied with sweet words or empty promises. He studies Loki as if his life (or his next meal – Loki strives for the cynicism of old) depends on it, and looses his grip on him only when he is fully satisfied.

“You had better,” he says. “I tell you this for both your sakes, brother.”

It is an easy promise he has made, Loki thinks, for the one thing he never wants to do is to hurt Bruce. And it is enough; despite his newfound caution, the Thunderer remains easily manipulated. His face looks calm again, as he leaves Loki's cell, and it is a calm – Loki swears to himself. – that is mirrored by the same feeling inside himself.

\----------

And so he meets Bruce the next time, in the most beautiful place he knows. Asgard is a realm of gold and magnificence, but the beauty of Vanhaeim, home to the wisest and most mystical of the gods, is more intimate. The green hills are low and rounded, as soft as a mother's bosom. The breeze is a whisper, the warm sun a caress. Even the birds sing sweeter here, and the fruit fruit hangs heavy, on trees that seem to want no more than to give of their bounty.

Bruce looks around, his smile just a little bit puzzled. “It's beautiful of course,” he says, “but how did you manage it, Loki? Where are the people who are supposed to be here?”

People? “I conjured this place.” _Look,_ he wants to say, _see this tree with fruit. Let us share a piece together. We will sit in its shade and talk. – I will call the very birds down from the sky to sing for you. All this, just to make you smile._ “I am a prisoner, remember? You must know why there are no people here. There were no people in my bedroom the last time.”

“Bedrooms don't have other people in them.” Bruce plucks an apple from the tree. He looks at it, turning it in his hand. “Countrysides do. – Why, Loki? I was happy with the bedroom.”

Because no one is happy forever in a bedroom. Because this is Vanaheim, the most beautiful of all the realms. “Because I am a prisoner.” Loki's voice is low. “You are not, Bruce.”

He sees Bruce's eyes sweep the place again, the green hills, the trees bending down to give their fruit, the blue sky, that enfolds them like a mother's arms. “It's beautiful,” he says again.

“Did you like the bedroom so much?” In spite of himself, Loki turns on him. “You want it back? Here, let me conjure it for you.” He waves a hand; Vanaheim disappears. They are standing in nothingness, a realm between realms. “Just tell me which room you want,” he says. “Is mine too good for you? Will you only be happy in your own little rattrap?”

“Why are you doing this, Loki?” Instead of being angry, Bruce just puts his arms around him, stroking his dark hair away from his face. “Are you trying to start a fight? I don't care where we are. Put the trees back, if you want them. Or put your bedroom, or my bedroom. – Hell, we can stay here in nothingness if that's what you want. I don't have to be in any particular place with you to be happy.”

Bruce speaks truth, Loki knows he speaks truth. His heart melts at the very sincerity of of him, and all he wants to do is hold him close and bask in the warmth of his brown eyes. But all his life, Bruce has been settling for less than he deserves, Loki knows that too. Is he going to be responsible for him settling this time too? Can he really offer him nothing better?

“You're mine.”

“I know,” Bruce whispers back.

 _I would never do anything to hurt you,_ he wants to say, but how can he, when he already is? “Do you want my bedroom or yours?” he says instead.

Bruce kisses him. “Give me back the orchard. I want another of those apples.”


	11. Tony Talks to Bruce, and Bruce Talks to Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wise man once said: Don't sell yourself short. Does it matter that he was doing his best to drink himself into oblivion when he said it?

“You have to talk to him.”

“I won't talk to him.”

“You have to, Bruce.” Stark talking, from behind a glass as usual. For someone who shields themselves from ever really dealing with people, he can make the touchie-feelie argument with the best of them. “You're making yourself nuts here. If you don't talk to him, I will.”

“Because you don't think I can? Because you think, 'poor Bruce Banner, he can't let himself get even a little bit mad or the Oth... – Or the Hulk will come out'?” He is starting to get mad. After a full week of nothing, of knowing it's Thor's fault that Loki hasn't visited him, and somehow managing to hold the feelings in anyway, they're starting to come out now, and on Stark, who didn't even do anything. Banner wonders if he cares. He wonders if maybe Loki's right, maybe it's time to start being honest about who he is.

“You're all alike,” he says. “You, and Thor. – All of you. You all want to protect me. I'm like this targeted killing machine. You want the Hulk around when he's useful all right, but in between, it's always, 'oh, let's protect poor Bruce! Poor Bruce can't feel anything or else something bad will happen.'”

“Listen, dude, calm down.” Stark's starting to look a little nervous. He's fingering that bracelet of his that controls the suit. It occurs to Banner that he doesn't really care. Let someone else get a little upset for a change, especially if it's someone who's poking his goddamn nose into his business. Maybe the Hulk will come out, and maybe he doesn't care about that either. It'll do everyone good to have a little reality around here for a change.

“You want a drink?” Stark's already got another glass out. He's pouring some of his favorite band-aid into the bottom.

“That's you, always shielding yourself with alcohol.”

“Yeah, I'm not perfect.” Ice cubes clink as Stark empties his own glass. “And you're right, Bruce, we do baby you. So why not talk to Thor: Tell him to back off. Tell him you like being with Reindeer Ga... – Ah, with Loki.”

Banner takes the glass Stark's poured for him. He swallows. – 20 year old Scotch, or cheap-ass stuff from the CVS on the corner, it all tastes like crap to him. It's not safe to drink very much, when you've got a monster inside you. But the ritual is a calming one. It's easier to say what he means afterward.

“Thor's just being himself,” he says. “Loki's his little brother, and he can't help poking his nose into his life. I'm sure he said something to Loki, but it was Loki's choice to stop visiting me.”

“Loki?” Just what he needs: Stark pours himself some more booze. “He _stopped visiting_ you? Did he tell you why? – Are you not putting out or something?”

Is he not what? Banner looks at Stark.

“Sorry, sorry. He only visited me once, remember. All I know besides the psycho taking-over-the-world side, is he can be a total horndog when he wants to be.”

He has such a way with words.

“Loki said I deserved more than dream-visits.” Stark's a good friend, but it's still hard to talk about it. It's too personal, too risky to share so much of himself. “He said he didn't want to be with me if he couldn't give me what I deserved.”

“And you said.”

“I said I didn't care, of course.” Banner snorts. “It's not like I've got a perfect life without him, and he's the one fucking it up.

“Listen.” Stark gestures with his glass. “Don't sell yourself short, Bruce. There's someone for everyone, that's what my mom always said. – Look at me and Pepper.”

Look at him and Pepper? The ultimate on-again-off-again relationship? Does that even need an answer?

“Okay, bad example,” Stark says. “She's the one selling herself short with me.” 

“And yet she's still there.” 

“Yeah.” Stark sets his glass aside. For once his face isn't cool and cheerful looking. “Maybe I should do like Loki,” he says, “and make her go find somebody who can be good to her too.”

\----------

“Loki, we need to talk.”

It occurs to Banner finally, that it's pretty stupid to sit around his room waiting for Loki all the time, when he can visit him in his room just as easily. – That it takes him another couple of days to figure it out? Well maybe Stark's kind of right about that low self-esteem thing too.

Loki's room is just like he remembers it: Same heavy, carved-wood furniture, same big fire and same tray piled with fancy, medieval-looking food on the table. The stack of books on the corner of the table nearest the bed is the same, and, just like the last time, Loki's still got the same one open on his lap. He's looking down at it with a frown on his face, and it doesn't look like he's turning the pages very often.

He looks up when Banner speaks. “Bruce?” At once a snotty look comes onto his face. It's the one he wore when he was on Earth, when SHIELD had him in the containment chamber, and he knew he could get out any time he wanted. It would almost work too, only Banner saw the sad look on his face a moment earlier. “Are you so desperate?” he says. “You think I wouldn't have come if I wanted to see you?”

_I think we're both desperate. I think you want to see me as badly as I want to see you._ “Talk to me, Loki. And not a lot of bull-crap about how I deserve better than you.”

Loki turns on him. “Well you do.” There, that's better. The pretense is gone now. For once, Loki Liesmith is telling the truth.

“Yeah, and I had so much better too.” Unbidden, he drops down on Loki's bed. “Hiding out all the time, doing hard work to try and make the guilt go away. – You know the first time I ever started feeling proud of who I am now? ...Of who I became after the gamma radiation?” He takes Loki's hand. – It's only when Loki tries to pull it away again that he even realizes he's done it, and then his own hand tightens, holding him there. “It was when I saw that you admired the Hulk. – _Really_ admired him, not just found him useful sometimes and then wanted him to go away the rest of the time.”

“Lies.” Now that he is holding Banner's hand, Loki looks down at it, instead of meeting his eyes. “Don't you know lies are what I do best? I'm the Trickster, the God of Lies.”

“So Thor told me.” Those hands of his: The fingers so long and graceful, but with the black-painted nails looking bitten-short at the ends. A man fall in love just with those hands. “He tells me I shouldn't trust you if you tell me the sky's blue and the sun rises in the east.” –

“It doesn't, on Vanir.” A weak smile from Loki.

And one back from Banner. “Yeah, well you're probably lying about that. – Listen, Loki,” he says, “why are you so sure we don't belong together? Do you have so much of a life without me? Do I have much without you?”

“Because I'm a fucking prisoner.” Loki pulls his hand away. “Because if you're stupid enough to want to be with a liar and a trickster and a cheat, that's your choice, but at least you shouldn't have to live with you on Midgard, and your lover in the All-Father's prison.”

Banner grabs Loki's hand again. Something more is coming, and he's got the good sense not to say anything until it comes.

“...Because even if Odin wanted to release me, which he doesn't, I don't dare leave his prison.” Loki tries again, but when he can't pull his hand free, he just lets it lie in Banner's. He doesn't look at him. “I have angered people.” His voice is very low. “The man I was in alliance with when I invaded Midgard...”

The leader of the Chitauri?

“Whatever Thor may have told you,” – Loki's voice is bitter. – “I am not all-powerful. Thanos is stronger than I am, and he is vengeful. I promised him a victory, and I failed him.”

“ _I'm_ stronger than you are.” Loki looks up. Is this a new idea for him? It kind of is for Banner as well. .He can't help grinning. It's kind of a nice one. “Hell,” he says, “the Avengers beat... – What's his name? Thanos? – We beat Thanos's army in Manhattan, when he had you and the Tesseract on his side. Why couldn't we do it again? – Why couldn't we do it even more, if we had you on our team this time?”

A snort. “Because naturally the Avengers will instantly go from wanting to destroy me, to wanting me _on their team_.”

“A wise man once told me: Don't sell yourself short. Nobody's perfect, Loki.”

And now he's apparently silenced the God of Lies, and sounded as much like Yoda as any man should have to do in one afternoon, especially when there's a whole big bed to play around in. “Can you at least promise to think about it?” he says.

“I'm a liar.” Loki sounds grudging. “I can promise whatever you want.” He doesn't argue when Banner puts his arms around him, though, and a moment later his fingers find the buttons on Banner's shirt.”

Banner leans in to kiss him. “I love your fingers.”

“I love all of you.” Loki kisses him back. “And I love the Hulk,” he says. “And someday we're going to make love here on Asgard, me in my Jotun form, and you in your Hulk form, and we'll knock Odin's whole big ugly palace down.”

“But for now?”

Another kiss. “For now I want you in my dreams, Bruce.”


	12. Loki Talks to Odin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Edited version:** In which a negotiation goes better than expected.

“All-Father, I crave a boon.” A whole lifetime has led to this: Loki has climbed the endless steps that lead to Odin's throne. He kneels now, with his face pressed to the golden carpet, while Odin looks down from above.

“Loki.” A gentle voice, a hand touching his shoulder. “Rise, my son.”

Loki looks up. The old man is off his throne. He puts both hands out to him and helps him to his feet. “You speak lies.” He barely mouths the words. – How many times has he said them, but in his mind only? How many times has he thought this through before and planned out what he would say to this manipulator who pretends to be his father? Now as he says them, he knows the words to be a distraction. This is not what brought him here.

“The ways of statecraft are difficult, my son.” Odin's hand is still on his back. He looks – Up now; they are so long from the time when it was he who was the shorter! – into Loki's eyes. “I did lie, that is true, but I had reason. Are you ready to listen now, my son?”

“Father,” – The word slips out unbidden. – “there was no excuse.”

“Perhaps not.”

This is _not_ what he came here for. How is it that Odin, by his mere presence, derails Loki's purpose? And so easily? “F... ...Ah, _Odin_ ,” – He pulls free, the old man's touch unsettlingly comforting. He is done letting the All-Father set the agenda. He came here for a reason. – “Keep your family talk for Thor, who believes it. I came here as subject only. I ask only that you consider my request.”

A sigh. Odin's hands drop to his sides. “As you wish.” He returns to the throne. “Pray, sit.”

“Thank you, I will kneel.” Strangely, he feels more comfortable in this position. It is what he expected; it is what makes sense. 

“Your boon, son?”

“My boon, All-Father: I love a man, a Midgardian.” –

“You have found love? That is indeed good...”

– “I love a Midgardian.” Another attempt to set the agenda? Loki cuts it off before it can begin. “He is one of the Avengers, the Earth force with whom Thor worked during the war with the Chitauri. He is a valiant warrior, Lord Odin. I love him, and he loves me as well. I would beg that you release me from imprisonment that I may go to him and ask him to share his life with me.”

“Loki has found love...” Odin looks confused, he looks wondering. – He looks everything except what he ought to look right now, which is like a King considering the request of an imprisoned criminal. “You are sincere about this, son?”

“ _Son_ ”. Again. “I am sincere.” This is not what he came for. This was to be no sweet family visit, for they are _not_ family. Loki has no family. 

“And so, Loki has found love. My son, who once fought only for himself, has now found something bigger.”

“ _Someone_. Bruce is a someone.” Loki rises. He shakes free from that contemptible hand. Standing, he is nearly on eye-level with Odin on his throne. And to think, he was once in awe of this man. 

“My son, who once...” --

“But I am not your son.” His patience nears an end. What mockery is this, that he should come with serious intent, and be treated like a child? “I was never your son. And this is not your audience but mine. You think I came to give you news? I care not for your opinion.”

“Son...” The old man's voice is low, gentle almost. “Forgive me,” he says, “ _Loki_ : Is it war you want?”

What answer to give? What response is suited to a question such as this? In truth, the old man has won, for his tactic has disarmed the Trickster. “You know I do not.” 

“You begin to learn diplomacy, my son.” Ah, the patronizing tone of him! He is ever the pedagogue, ever the _father_. 

“I learn to get what I want.”

“And such is the secret of diplomacy. Had Laufey but learned it in time... Ah, but that is water under the bridge now. My s... – Forgive me, _Loki_ : You will give your vow not to take arms against Asgard?”

“'Diplomacy'. It is another word for lies and insincerity.”

“It is a word for giving what you must, to get what you want. You will give your word, s... ...Er, Loki?”

“I will.”

“Subject to revocation of your magic if you break it?”

A nod. Let this colloquy be at an end, finally.

“And you will visit your mother?” – He says nothing, but he need not; the response is visible on his face. – “The woman who raised you from a babe in arms,” Odin says, “who nursed you through your nightmares and your childish fevers: You will visit her?”

His boon has been granted: He is to be free. There is a quick pounding in his chest that speaks of excitement, and Loki wants no more than to fly to Bruce's side. He has planned his declaration, and he would make it, now that he can. But Odin demands diplomacy of him. “I will visit her.” In spite of himself, Loki cannot help picturing Frigga's face. She will be pleased to see him again. Perhaps he will introduce her to Bruce.


	13. Loki Talks to Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Avengers add a new member.

There are two people on Midgard who appreciate the significance of the news. Thor is one of them, Bruce suggests the other. Stark is unkempt as always. He has wealth, power, intellect, and yet in dress and manner he suggests a child at play. Only the lighted device he wears in his chest, that once protected him from the Tesseract's power, speaks of the might he can control.

“So, Daddy decided you'd been grounded long enough did he?” The refreshments he serves are alcoholic in nature. He pours, hands a glass to each of them. 

Loki takes a sip and shudders. The drink is strong, very strong. The best aged ale at The Three Tuns is an infant's drink by comparison. Is it because this is a celebration? But no, he thinks: This is how Stark drinks normally.

Thor, ever protective, frowns disapproval. “You are humorous, Friend Tony. My brother was punished for his crimes. Now that he repents, surely he should be encouraged?”

“Encouraged? Sure! Thor, simmer down, did I say anything that wasn't _encouraging_?” Another fiery drink from his glass. “So, Reindeer Games, what are you going to do now?”

Bristles the big brother: “His name is Loki.”

At the same time, speaking for himself, “I thought I'd join the Avengers.” 

A laugh. A cough. How funny, some of Stark's drink has gone down the wrong way. “My ears must be stopped up,” he says. “I thought I heard you say you wanted to join my team.”

_My_ team?

“That was my idea,” Bruce says. “You're the one that was talking about second chances a while back, aren't you, Stark?”

“And the strength of the team is that we come to it as we are, and we use our strength... – Yeah, that sounds like me.” Stark looks at Loki. “Listen, you want to join the team, you're going to have to play by the rules. This isn't your little army of alien flunkies. We've got our ways of doing things, and you're going to have to go along with them.”

Oh indeed. Some of their _ways_ aren't so impressive, if he remembers correctly. Loki drops his eyes, pretends to sip from his glass. “Then you've corrected that little design flaw of everyone fighting each other as soon as things get the least bit tense?” he murmurs.

Thor's eyes bore holes. He feels Bruce's elbow jab his ribs. “And the bit where the Widow wets herself if Bruce even thinks of bringing out his best weapon? That's been resolved?”

A stern voice: “ _Brother_...” Oh goodie, Thor's getting angry.

“Who's the leader?” Loki asks. “Is it you, Stark, or is it still the one with the eyepatch who's always selling you out behind your backs? Has he promised not to drop any more nuclear bombs on you yet? Are you fool enough to believe him if he does?”

Another elbow jabs, harder this time. “Will you listen to yourself?”

What? Because he's got some suggestions? “Am I to follow purblind commanders into battle my entire life?” He turns on Thor, _and_ Bruce, both of whom look on with shocked expressions. “I kept silent with you, Thor, because you were older and and entitled to the place of leadership. This,” – A wave of his hand in Stark's direction. His eyes are also wide, he notices. – “This ... _mortal_ does not even have that small claim. How old is he? 60 perhaps at best?”

“What's this 60 crap?” from Stark, who seems to be regaining his wits. “I'm 43.”

“Loki Laufeyson will make alliance only on his own terms. I have a mind, I have strategic skill...” –

“Yeah, which you so totally showed by teaming up with an ET who put you out in front of his tester-army, when he knew it was going to fail.” 

He'd be angered, except... Well actually, the only thing deterring him is that he knows Bruce is counting on this working. A bark of laughter, albeit unwilling. “Point well taken, Stark. We are none of us perfect. I will play by your rules if you will accept some constructive criticism from time to time.”

The sighs of relief are audible. Even Stark sighs a little, although he hides it. “So where are you going to be staying? That place of Bruce's is too little for two, isn't it?”

“It won't be when I finish with it.” Visions of enchanted comfort, replacing the spare quarters where he was forced to spend the night before dance in his mind, and Loki smiles.

Stark though, visibly blanches. “No, no, no, no,” he says. “That won't do.” – Whatever sort of _that_ he is thinking of. – “What say you come live here?”

Ere he can open his mouth with question or dispute, Loki chances to look toward Bruce, and he sees the look of pleasure on his face. He swallows his own questions and objections. “That will be fine,” he says.


	14. Loki and the Hulk Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The happy ending: In which Tony Stark provides a bed that can support some _weight_!

The Jotun form is blue and raw-boned. Loki towers over Bruce in his mortal form. His lover's head scarce reaches his chest, his eyes are near-even with the uncouth appendage between his legs. Bruce's eyes widen. His lips part slightly.

“Monstrous, is it not?” Loki speaks the words he expects to hear.

Bruce laughs, his soft, rueful laugh. “I see why you like the Hulk. He couldn't smash you like this if he tried, could he?”

A smile trembles the corners of his mouth. “I came back soon enough when he smashed me in the other form, remember.”

“You're kind of...” –

“Do _not_ say I am cute like this. By all the Norns, Bruce!” 

– “I was going to say _intimidating_.” Bruce reaches out, takes the boney, knuckly appendage that serves as his Jotun-hand. “Fury would wet himself to have you on the team like this ...provided you behave yourself.”

“And provided the others agree....” The words trail off. He can feel the weight of Bruce's eyes on him. “I gave my word,” he says. “I gave it to you, which matters to me, and to the All-Father as well. I have told you, Bruce: I am not all-powerful. Odin watches. If I did break my word...” He swallows shame. He has brought this on himself; he owes it to Bruce to resolve his doubts.

“I trust you to keep your word.” He hears the lie in his lover's voice. The words speak of will, sure enough, but not of belief. Loki swallows more shame, and vows as he has before, not to break the still-fragile trust.

Bruce moves to the bed and sits down. Stark's taste in furnishings is as flashy and modern as anyone would expect it to be, knowing him, but the bed he has given them is large enough for a Frost Giant to couple, with a mortal, or with a green monster. He pats the spot next to him. “Stop being so serious. Come on, I trust you. Are you going to make me sleep in this big bed all by myself?”

Loki comes. The bed is soft, and he doesn't think he'll need very many blankets in this form. ...Provided any sleeping gets done tonight. He takes Bruce's hands and looks down (and down and down) into his eyes. “And you'll take your other form too?”

A grin. “Only if you get me angry enough.”

“That can be arranged.” Loki finds himself grinning back. “I can be very, _very_ angering.”


End file.
